


Taking His Hand

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Inferno holds out his hand to Red Alert. He can wait as long as he needs to for Red Alert to take it.
Relationships: Inferno/Red Alert
Kudos: 21





	Taking His Hand

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on September 26, 2013 as “Drabble #63 - Inferno/Red Alert.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on November 29, 2019. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.

“You okay, little guy?” The larger mech asked, holding a hand down to pick Red Alert off the ground.

This was Rung’s fault. Red Alert was so focused on the recording of their last session, that he let his guard down! He ran into a mech while walking and he was trapped in some place between embarrassment and a panic attack for being that unaware of his surroundings. Who knew who he could have run into!?

The larger mech studied him, with a small smile on the edge of his lips. He rubbed the back of his helm, avoiding the white wing decorations that framed his face. His hand remained out, waiting for Red Alert to take it. “Sorry I stumbled into you like that. Sometimes I just don’t know how to carry my own weight around.”

What game was this mech playing at? Clearly Red Alert knocked into him! Red Alert raked his optics over the other mech. He stood calm, but his color was a flashy bright red paint job. He was too calm for having someone crash into him like a fool. Was this a trap?

The mech’s smile wavered, and his optics glanced around Red Alert on the ground. A wave of concern–fake or real!?–washed over the stranger’s face. “You okay? You didn’t hit your head or anything did you?”

Red Alert should have answered him, but he was too focused on something else. When Red had these moments–his thinking moments–Mechs grew uncomfortable. Like this one. Their faces turned and they started to realize something was wrong with him. Their hands drew away and bodies left. Not wanting to deal with it. But–but this stranger.

His hand was still extended.

The fingers were straight, the arm steady. Nothing curled away, nothing hesitated. Just concern on a stranger’s face and a willing hand that didn’t shy away.

Red Alert took it.

“Up ya’ go,” the stranger said, tugging Red Alert to his feet. He squeezed Red’s hand, and held tight. The stranger smiled at Red Alert without a care in the world, eyes open and undisturbed. The hand holding his was strong and sturdy, confident and relaxed. “Name’s Inferno. How about you?”

They were still holding hands when he blurted, “Red Alert.”

* * *

Red Alert should have told Rung about Inferno.

Red Alert was opening himself up and being honest with new people. He was meeting new people. Rung would have been thrilled. He would have called it delightful progress.

Red Alert called it “Inferno messed with his head.”

He couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t describe it. But one fragging smile from that over-sized fire fighter and Red Alert’s defenses shattered. He could talk to Inferno. It was so easy that Red Alert’s painful attempts to converse with others became tenfold more aggravating. With Inferno, everything spilled out of his mouth without his consent. The honest truth no less!

Rung would have killed someone for this sort of communication, Red Alert would bet. But Rung wasn’t Inferno.

“You really think they got those street poles bugged, Red?” Inferno asked, sipping his drink. They turned down the next corner of the street, Red hugging the walls of the buildings as Inferno walked alongside him.

“Yes, people walk down these streets every day,” Red Alert answered his voice low. It was a mistake even discussing this outside. Why hadn’t Inferno learned to keep conversation to his room alone! “It’s perfect.”

“Huh,” Inferno chuckled and slapped Red’s back. He finished off his drink, and dropped the empty cube in a trash receptacle. “Probably a good thing I don’t have anything to hide then, huh?”

“Everyone has something to hide. They’ve all got their secrets,” Red Alert said, crossing his arms. He glanced at Inferno. “Everyone.”

“Suppose so,” Inferno drawled, his voice low and considering. He dropped his hand on Red’s helm and held it there. He smiled at Red Alert and chuckled deeply. “If I ever figure out what mine are, I’ll be sure to tell you, Red.”

“That defeats the purpose of them being secret,” Red Alert said, ignoring how good it felt to have that contact between them. Even if it meant folks stared as they walked down the street.

“Maybe,” Inferno snuck a kiss to the top of Red’s Helm under his hand, “but I don’t like keeping secrets from you. Makes you nervous.”

Red Alert swatted at the laughing Fire Truck. “Inferno!”

“I know, I know,” he laughed, shamelessly. He nudged Red’s cheek with his knuckle, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn’t sorry at all. “Not in public.”

“Right,” Red Alert said. He rubbed his fingers together. “Private only.”

He really should mention his relationship to Inferno to Rung, but then again–Red Alert felt he couldn’t be blamed for wanting to keep Inferno all to himself.

* * *

Red Alert missed Inferno.

He missed having someone to talk to at night. Someone to hold his hand, and touch his helm without sending Red’s spark into fits. He missed his ever calm demeanor. A mech unmoved by anything but joy and aid to others. Red Alert had even told Rung about the other mech.

Red Alert missed Inferno something fierce.

But he had no idea where the other mech was. Reassignments had come quick and without warning when everything exploded all at once with Megatron and his attacks. Between the ‘Cons storming everything and the fear of loose lips, communications channels were locked down tight. Not even the Security Director could override Blaster when he was in a mood.

Checking for a soldier location wasn’t worth giving up their position.

Red Alert hated with every fiber of his spark that Blaster was right.

As the war raged on, and thousands of years past without seeing the other mech, Red Alert accepted the inevitable.

* * *

Red Alert’s face was buried in the Lost Light roster. He needed to give it to Ultra Magnus and make sure that everything was ship-shape before he retreated to his security wing. This lack of attention is what caused him to crash head-first into another mech and tumble to the floor.

“You okay, little guy?” The larger mech asked, face smiling and familiar red paint sending a jolt of warmth through Red Alert’s spark. The red mech held his hand out to help Red Alert off the ground.

This time, Red Alert took the hand without a shred of hesitation.


End file.
